


When the Lights Go Out

by violetlolitapop



Series: California 2019 [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, M/M, brain washing, i don't know if i can use that character death tag, i know someone is going to die but idk if they're major enough, i'll tag as needed or if anyone tells me to or whatever, references to pill popping, stuff like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetlolitapop/pseuds/violetlolitapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they meet, it's an explosive symphony filled with breaking glass, electrical shocks, raging fires, ray gun blasts, and a crash landing.</p>
<p> Literally. </p>
<p>.:Human!AU : Dystopian Society : Laser Guns, Muscle Cars, and Android Girls :.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look Alive, Sunshine

_"Tired of having feelings?"  
_

_"Everything is going to be fine."_

_"Did I take my medication today?"_

_"Keep working hard to stay alive."_

_"Tired of having feelings?"_

_"Everything is going to be fine."_

_"Did I take my medication today?"_

_"Keep working hard to stay alive."_

The light monotone voice that he has on many occasions found soothing is beginning to grate on his nerves. It takes a lot of focus and will power for one Ivan Braginsky to refrain from causing any more damage to the broken and looped monitors hanging above the moving walkway leading into the main lobby. As his jaw sets and his teeth threaten to start grinding against each other at the sixth consecutive round of questions and statements he's had to hear, he focuses straight ahead, his height giving him the advantage of peering over the other employees in front of him towards their destination.

The belt they travel on progresses slowly towards a large building with many floors and surrounding towers, filled with cameras watching their every move and microphones hidden to catch their every word, covered in reflective windows that show nothing inside. They only mirror the sky and the immediate surroundings of the City, all with their emblem of a large monochromatic smiley face against a pure white background stamped in the center right above their company name:

Better Living Industries; a reminder that their growing utopia is a blessing and well-entitled God send to the hell of an aftermath from the previous war and how lucky are they to have such.

_"Tired of having feelings?"_

His eye twitches at the start up of a new round. He's only able to block it out for so long without the help of petty distractions. Unfortunately enough, common workers regress to nothing but just that as soon as they step on company property. It's easier and far safer this way, which causes expanse silence when all collected together and has his thoughts run a little more freely that acceptable.

It also has his patience grow thinner, and he's even more eager to hurry inside. He's more than ready to check in and begin his working day so that he may go home and away from the cool mechanical voice that threatens to drill straight into his mind and never leave.

_"Did I take my medication today?"_

He hasn't, truth be told. In the fear of arriving late he has skipped most of his morning routine, one particular part being the sanctioned time he ingests all fifteen pills prescribed to him by the mandated three doctors as per their employment regulations. Ivan feels the effects of not doing so greatly, and upon finally reaching a point in line where he is able to see his own reflection in the windows - pale hair in shambles, skin looking sallow, violet eyes smeared with light bruising underneath them, and his normal small smile twisted into an irritated frown only enhances his over all lackluster appearance when dressed in a grey suit with a grey coat and his grey scarf - the bubbling fester of frustration rises steadily within for unknown reasons that only further inhibits his ability to stay calm.

Suddenly, there's a hand on his shoulder; small with thin, deft fingers almost digging into his muscles through the thickness of his clothing, calls his attention away from the growing aggravation.

He glances down, and it's only when he meets with a smile plastered on the face of a man shorter than he - longish dark hair tied back loosely, healthy complexion for someone his age, and dressed in a dull brown suit that is just as bland as Ivan's own clothing - does the hand fall away from its hold on him and rests back down at the other's side.

"Yao," Ivan greets, and even attempts at smiling himself. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you," the other replies. "Or perhaps not, you seem a bit... flustered today, Ivan."

Ivan's eyes flicker to the monitor above, still repeating the same mantra and continuously fluttering between showing the company logo to static to multi-colored bars and back to their logo in rapid succession.

"I suppose I am," he answers. "I don't feel like myself today."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Well, there hasn't been any changes since yesterday, and the day has only begun so nothing has happened yet. I don't really understand what is wrong."

A contemplative look crosses Yao's face. He studies Ivan, runs his eyes up and down the other, as if trying to find the source of the problem on the man himself

"Have you taken your medication today?"

Ivan's eye twitches again. "You sound just like that infernal machine."

Yao only nods, seeming to find his answer in the response. "Hm, that may be the problem. How many of those pills were you given?"

"Fifteen total. I didn't think skipping them for just the one day would make that much of a difference though. I was running late this morning, you see..."

Yao's eyes widen at the confession, as though completely flabbergasted at the idea of any one person being prescribed so much.

"That would make a very big difference," he says.

The volume of the monitors increases ten-fold at that moment, gathering the attention of everyone still riding the walkway through the main entrance. The computerized voice grows distorted and shrill before a single high-pitch tone shrieks out in waves. Ivan clamps his hands over his ears, and watches as the picture on the screen scrambles and pixelates before finally settling on shutting down completely. At the same time, just as the sound gives out, the walkway stops moving, the suddenness jolting many of the employees into almost stumbling against one another.

Ivan removes his hands from his ears and his eyes dart back down from the monitor, ready to tell Yao something about how odd this all is, there has never been technical problems like this before, when he notices the change in expression in the other. Before he is able to question it, however, Yao grabs at the front of his jacket and pulls Ivan right down to the ground with himself following right after. Not a second later, an enormous bellow breaks through the very front of the building, not fifty feet away from their position, sending giant clouds of dust, rubble, and shards of glass to crash and shatter against the pavement while hitting all those in their path. Ivan looks up after the first shrieks of those caught in the downpour start to yield, spares at quick glance at Yao who catches his eye while still remaining on the ground and shakes the other man's hand off from his back to sit up and take into account of what is happening.

Plumes of black smoke emit from the now gaping hole in front of them. There's the crackling of fire and a few licks of red and orange flames spotted inside the building, mixed with the zapping noise of ray guns being fired. There's shouting from within, from Agents spouting out orders to one another through their pull over gas masks and to the workers screaming as the dive for cover or rush for an escape and other individual voices he is unfamiliar with whooping, cheering, whistling, and laughing. Ivan can see and hear smaller explosions happening beyond the damage and civilian workers running back and forth in between the Agents, barely visible between the white suits acting as bright blips of light that flicker through the chaos. The roar of engines vibrates the entire floor and the loud cat calls grow even more so as four motor bikes crash through the broken panes and into the panicked crowd.

"We have to get out of here!" Yao shouts at him and hurriedly picks himself up from the floor. He pushes himself up and over the railing, Ivan following the example and chases after, unintentionally causing a trend in pattern as many others begin to do the same.

He's nearly hit by one of the motorbikes, one that is circling around with two passengers dressed in clashing colors and wearing masks, one in the driver's position and another in the back with a painted ray gun pointed at the sky, firing it off while howling. Ivan scans for Yao, but the other is lost in the pandemonium, completely out of his sight in the mob of screams and rushing people.

Instead of trying to track him down, Ivan opts for going solo. He scans for nearby shelter, and thinking the best place for it would be somewhere against the parts of the building that have been left undisturbed thus far, makes for an alcove between two pillars. He ducks and dodges the flying laser beams thrown by Agents attempting to apprehend the assailants, nearly knocking into many of those scrambling around him. Many more of those dressed in the same manner as the ones on the motorbikes come forth from the wreckage, running at break speed as their chased by a numerous amount of armed guards. Some fire back, their ray guns hitting too close to the civilians for Ivan's liking and he even considers taking a few of them done for the sake of the other's safety.

However, before he's able to enact any of his thoughts, he hears the detonation of another explosion, a series of them, smaller perhaps and just as contained as the massive one minutes earlier, but as equally loud and destructive. There's an ear-splitting screech from a frightened woman in the back that he barely registers. His eyes are turned up on instinct, seeing the showering splinters of glass being blasted outwards at the very same time the pillars he'd been racing towards crumble from the top and come crashing down, hitting monitors and knocking them free of their holding wires and soon the electricity that had coursed through them is completely audible, crackling in waves and emitting static charges.

Suddenly, it's the trigger of a flashback; sirens blaring in the street as him and his sisters refuse to leave the body of their fallen mother despite his eldest sister's age and he being fourteen, the both should have been more rational in their own self-preservation. Yet Natalya would not stop crying, being the youngest and only ten, still somewhat naive to what is happening to their society, to their world, and it hurt to leave, so they stayed. Stayed among the fleeing citizens of the city as the bombs approached closer and their city fell around them. As the girls sheltered themselves using one another to the horrors of their surroundings, Ivan watched.

The people falling, hit by shrapnel or stray bullets fired from those resisting or the laser beams fired from the opposition. Streams of white trails of missiles taking off flying through the sky. Bright lights. Shrieking noises. A shadow rapidly descending over them, one that diverts his eyes to taking full notice of and seeing the crumbling ruins of a tall building finally come crashing down and towards the three of them...

Ivan's snapped out of the memory at the recognition that once again there's a growing shadow looming over him, growing larger and larger, and it isn't until it's too late to realize that it's a flailing body being thrown his way.

Falling with the pieces of broken glass and bits of concrete is a blond male, dressed in red jeans and a brown bomber jacket left unzip with a black bandanna covering the bottom half of his face. He calls out to Ivan below, most likely in warning, but he isn't able to hear the muffled words lost in the surrounding noise. The surprise keeps him rooted to the spot and it's a crash collision when the impact finally hits.

Ivan falls back like dead weight, the wind being knocked out of him the whole time. The back of his head hits hard against the ground, and ache instantly pulsing inside his cranium because it while an elbow that digs right into his gut as a head hits the underside of his chin and his legs end up tangling with the other's before the blond rolls over on to his back. Ivan tilts his head in his direction. He sees him covered in shallow cuts and bruised hands reach up to pull the black bandanna down completely below his chin, revealing the entirety of his face and he barks out laughing.

"Aww, man.. That was while..." he chuckles and sighs at the same time while his hands busy themselves in righting a pair of glasses he wears. His head turns towards Ivan, still sprawled on the floor and surrounded by glass. "Hey, dude, thanks for breaking that fall. I prolly coulda died!"

Ivan growls, more angry at having just played landing mat to one of those responsible for not only the wreckage but for causing trauma to those innocent caught in the cross fire and causing him to remember incidents he would rather keep repressed. He rolls over and scrambles on to his knees, reaches over and grabs at the lapels of the blond's jacket. Ivan heaves him upwards while standing himself and even shakes him a little.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demands.

"Hey! Hey!" the blond cries. "I didn't throw myself out the damn window! And anyway, what the hell were you doing just standing there? Things are blowing up, dude, you're supposed to run and shit."

"Don't make me repeat myself. Why the hell would you want to blow up a building filled with innocent people?"

The blond only laughs again. "Nah, nah, it's totally cool. Really, we know what we're doing."

Ivan's fists clenches further into his jacket. He wants to punch him in the face for his nonchalance but isn't able to do anything. He feels the barrel of a ray gun pressed against the base of his neck suddenly, freezing him in place and only being able to keep the blond man in place.

"Let him go," a voice behind him commands.

The blond in his hold veers his head to the right to catch a glimpse of the one who has come to his rescue. His blue eyes turn upwards as a smile blooms on his face once more. "Mattie, baby, my hero."

"Alfred, shut up," the other says, sounding exasperated. "Let him go, or I'm gonna shoot."

"He'll do it too," the blond - Alfred - says. "He's like a total kitty-cat when we're on the DL, but he can be a brutal mothafucka when pushed."

"Alfred. Shut. Up."

His words are punctuated with a hard dig of the barrel against Ivan's skin, most likely forming a mark that will last for days. Ivan lets go of Alfred's jacket in one quick move, all of his fingers releasing their grip simultaneously. His hands drop and Alfred dusts himself off while stepping away. Despite this, there's still a weapon being held against Ivan and he doesn't move in fear of setting off the other.

"Let it go," Alfred tells him. He pulls open his jacket, revealing an inside pocket where a red, white, and blue spray painted ray gun is kept and brings it out for use. He checks the battery while saying, "The Scarecrows are coming out and Honda's with them, we gotta blast this shit. Oh. Hey. Made a pun."

The barrel's pulled away, slower than normal but quick enough that it has Ivan breathe out a relived sigh. He chances a look behind him, sees the other man Alfred called "Mattie".

He's just as tall as Alfred, almost identical save for the length of his own blond hair that is pulled back in a short ponytail, dressed in an olive green denim jacket and black cargo pants. He says nothing as he reaches down and places his own gun (painted red with white stripes) in a leather holster strapped to his thigh.

"If Crows are coming out then we need to bounce now if we're gonna make it back to the Camino," he tells Alfred, ignoring Ivan entirely now as he heads for a dusty orange bike laying on its side some ways from them.

"I'm a little more worried about Honda finding us, not like we haven't taken on Crows before!" Alfred says while chasing the other.

Ivan does nothing more than stare after them, unsure what to make of it all as Mattie picks the bike up and twists it in the right direction leading out back into the city from the front entrance. He swings his leg over and revs up the engine while Alfred fires off into the oncoming crowd of the Scarecrow Unit in their full body white jumpsuits and attached hoods covering their faces. He hits one in the leg and doesn't hold back a cheer while hopping on the back of the bike. His companion revs again, and Alfred looks back Ivan and winks in his direction, whether in sincerity of mockingly, it's hard to say.

"Keep shining, handsome!" he calls out and flashes a smile at him before the bike takes off.

The two shield themselves with a large pick up of dust that clouds around them at the initial stage of their speeding off from the property. Members of the Unity charge after them all the same, regardless of how visible they seem and even knock into Ivan carelessly in following their orders. When a majority of them have passed, he falls back down to the floor, sitting upright among the remains of the building and stirring sounds of everyone still present from the fiasco. He brings his knees up, and even hangs him head, suddenly drained and feeling exhausted.

He wishes he had taken his medication today.


	2. Across These City Streets

It's weeks after "The Incident" as it is now referred by the higher ups, and though detained and questioned extensively for his interaction with two of those responsible for it all, Ivan has had no real change in his life. Other than a slight increase in his medication that's been prescribed to him in order to ease the trauma that might have occurred from that day, his normal routine of work-home-work-home-work-home goes by the same as always.

So when a certain Wednesday night rolls around, Ivan expects it to end normally. The clock ticks down to seven in the evening, which marks the end of his twelve-hour shift. His computer flashes the time and shuts down, automatically saving whatever files he's had open and then flits to a screen that shows nothing more than a glare of that infuriatingly cheerful smiley face telling him to "Have a Nice Day" before going straight to black. He packs his things, shrugs on his dull coat over his dull suit, and leaves his standard sized cubicle.

Other employees are doing much the same and eventually it's a slow-even paced march for the exits as they all file down the hallways in a single formation. Not a word is spoken between them, no idle chatter, or petty small talk, not even so much as a farewell among peers. The only break from this silence is the small instance of conversation that occurs when Ivan reaches his own set of doors leading out into the hall.

"Goodnight, Ivan," Yao calls from his office near the exit.

As Yao is the head of the department and holds a position just as well as any of those in the Scarecrow Unit, his hours are longer and his own day ends later. All the same, Ivan is thankful for the resilience that holds their friendship together for whatever reason. It's... comforting.

He pauses in his step, causes a slight hindrance to the traffic flow of his peers, turns to face his friend and greets the smile presented to him with a small one of his own.

"Until tomorrow," he replies.

"Get home safe," is all that's left to be said, and with that their conversation ends and Ivan leaves their floor.

He's still not allowed to exit from the main entrance as there is still massive repairs to be made from all the damage caused. It's a minor inconvenience, as it only means that Ivan is now directed to the many private entrances reserved only for Agents and Scarecrows. The single file line detours through the underground parking structure, through all of the checkpoints under the watchful eyes of BLI Security until the lights and sounds of city life is able to wash over him and present a sense of freedom and ease.

He won't deny that the Agents themselves leave him wary and on guard, but there's never a real sense of fear felt around them. Their apparent retro inspired styled white suits and vinyl pull over masks are a little more than ridiculous in his eyes, but knowing the power they wield is enough to keep his mouth shut and thoughts to himself.

The Scarecrows though... they are something entirely different. Their full bodied white jump suits with the same black and white smiley face plastered everywhere else in the building stamped right where their face would be says something a little more threatening. With Agents their bodies are still visible, their hands still show, there are reminders that say they are still human and still distinguishable from one another.

With Scarecrows, always uniformed and always hidden, indistinguishable from the one standing next to them can be anyone or anything, and that is always a thought Ivan prefers not to dwell on much.

He comes to the final checkpoint, a small station in the center of a large tunnel and walks right through with the other common place workers. He swears that he can feel the subtle gaze from one of the guards watch him from behind that stamped smile over their face but quickly brushes it off as a fleeting sense of paranoia.

Perhaps he shouldn't have heeded Yao's advice on this one particular subject, perhaps he should be taking the increase of his mediation instead of steadily lowering his own dosage himself. Maybe the doctor's were right, maybe he was still experiencing some trauma from that day, maybe he's been causing more damage to his mental health, maybe that's why he's been having this odd sense of ifeelingi these days, maybe he should continue his prescriptions, maybe maybe maybe...

These thoughts only cease to plague him when he's finally through the tunnel and the rush of city noise comes at him in full force. There's no longer the constant buzzing feed of his thoughts running rampant in his mind. What was once a steady stream of consistent worry is replaced with a backwash of white noise and distraction that has him sigh in relief.

He thinks he may need to go through another Thought Adjustment. He'll ask Yao about that tomorrow.

From here those same employees he's traveled out with break off into packs and go off into the direction of their respected homes. The atmosphere is lighter now, there's even some small instances of chatter as certain workers find each other in the crowds and walk away. It's always been a bit surreal to Ivan, as though some terrible veil has been pulled back from them once they're off company property, everyone always seems to be much more alive. He's begun to notice it more and more these days for some reason, and it's honestly a bit worrisome.

Ivan shakes his head, pushes those thoughts aside and tugs at the scarf around his neck as he finally walks off in the direction of his apartment. He has a bit of a way to walk after all, that being another downside to the fiasco that occurred. Because of the detour route his way home takes longer than usual. The back way through the underground leads out into the The Lobby; the proverbial slums of the city, reserved for the androids and migrating nomads that had been wandering vast wastelands searching for that oasis of salvation still being inducted into their developing society.

He always feels a little unsafe walking these streets. Even with elevated security measures - the obvious cameras on every street corner, watching the footsteps of ever passing individual, and the clockwork security tours made by not only Agents but Scarecrows themselves - there's too much crime and sex for sell, it feels too much like a different world compared to the inner city. The fact that it's near the Acid Pools and borders the wastelands of the Zones doesn't help.

He crosses to another street, begins to notice the familiar sights of getting closer to the inner city, and rejoices at the fact. The sooner he makes it back home, the better he'll begin to feel. That is what he honestly believes.

Passing by graffiti covered walls and broken windows boarded up haphazardly in the guise of being repaired, Ivan doesn't bother to take much notice to the homeless youth holed up in small alcoves and the mangled droids looking for help as he walks. Despite the many lectures of not encouraging the less desirable by acknowledging their ways, it's simply to keep his own conscious from feeling guilty of not being able to offer them the help they need. He can't afford to spare much, even if he would like to. He wonders what that may say about him, he's never really taken it into much consideration until recently.

He really may need another Thought Adjustment.

As he approaches a less populated intersection, ready to round the corner and take the small alleyway of a street that acts as a shortcut, he hears a small commotion happening.

"It'd save so much time if we just broke into the damn thing to steal them."

"If we did that, the alarms would blow off sky high. They'd know where to come looking for the damage done."

The voices are just loud enough for him to barely make out. It's no doubt that he's about to walk into something illegal happening, and it has his footsteps slow just enough to bring him to edge of the corner of a building he would normally round to go on with his route home. He remains unsure as to making the decision to walk past the scene as nonchalantly as possible as he's not exactly sure how his sudden presence would be taken by these strangers.

His hesitance leaves him to listen in on the conversation they continue to have.

"Not if we just blame it on the androids. We'll pillage the fuck out of the Plus and just hand it out like a couple of good Samaritans and get the fuck back to the desert."

"Lovino, that's the most backhanded shit I've ever heard you say ever. No, man, that's messed up. You can't treat droids that way, man."

"You're such a damn hypocrite, what about the one you ditched out in Zone 1 when her Plus ran out?"

"That was a life or death scenario for me too, ya know! It wasn't the easiest decision I had to make."

" _Oh, Alfie, please, don't leave me out here, you can't leave me out here. I'm good to go still, really~._ "

"They picked her up, they brought her back here, we saw her just the other week, she's fine."

"Still, that was some pretty cold shit to do to Sugar Tits, Alfred, man, I'm not even gonna lie."

Alfred? That name. He knows that name, where did he hear it? It's not common enough to be heard daily, he's sure of it...

A small scoff of a laugh cuts off any more to that train of though.

"Did you seriously just call her Sugar Tits?! Do you seriously think that's her real name?! Fuckin A, of course you're the only one who fell for that. Holy fuck, I don't know what to do with you sometimes."

"You don't have to do shit with me, but you do have to do shit  _for_ me which you're still not even doing."

"Calm  _your_ tits, I'll get you back to Gilbert soon enough. I almost got this thing- Awww yeah! There we go!"

A loud clang hits the sidewalk and urges Ivan to look around the corner he hides behind. What he sees are two young men crouched in front of a city installed vending machine and dressed outlandishly, looking more like the vagrants and troublemakers that live out in the desert outside of the city borders rather the well respected citizens he's known all his second life.

Ivan only watches as the two men rise and step on the thin metal panel, picking at the objects inside: the Plus replacement batteries for androids, the packs of ammo for handheld ray guns, and the bottles of specialized water made for long lasting hydration. All over priced and well out of the reach of anyone living in these parts looking to pay in full. It all goes into a burlap sack being held open by one man standing just behind the other, a surly looking brunet in black pants and a dingy white shit with long sleeves looking like it hasn't been washed in years. Ivan doesn't bother to take in the denim vest with it's frayed patches and other bits of decoration, rather his attention goes to his companion.

Blond. Glasses. Red jeans. Brown bomber jacket. He can see a off colored undershirt hidden underneath the unzipped jacket now, and right there hanging from his neck is a black bandanna.

That other man that was with him.

He called him Alfred.

It all clicks then.

"It's you!"

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it. Both men stop what they're doing and Ivan freezes when both go for their guns strapped to their waists. However, once it's obvious that Ivan pays no real threat to them, the tension that escalated so quickly, deflates just as fast and all that's left is the curious head tilt coming from the blond and annoyed grunt from the brunet.

"The fuck is this?" he asks.

"Hell if I know," comes Alfred's reply.

For reasons, this has Ivan's eyebrow twitch. He's not sure if he's angry or just annoyed.

"You blew up my workplace and then used me like a mattress to land on when you almost blew yourself up!"

A beat of silences passes between them before Alfred suddenly perks up and goes a bit wide eyed.

"Oh yeah, I remember you!" He ignores Ivan for a second to address his friend. "This is the guy I landed on when I had to jump from the window. Remember? He was like the only part we kept in that bullshit story we made up for Gilbert when he patched me up?"

Without even waiting for a response or even considering the wary look his friend gives Ivan, Alfred immediately turns back to him and asks, "So how you been?"

Ivan can honestly say that while he hadn't known what to expect from suddenly starting a conversation with his former assailant, it hadn't been this.

"I've been better."

"Well I don't doubt that, I really don't. But hey, as nice as this reunion was and everything, we actually gotta get going. So we're just gonna finish up here real quick and then leave. Hope you understand."

And just like that, without giving him so much as a second glance the two turn back to where they left off on their small time robbery, moving quicker this time with the intent to leave as soon as possible. Without even thinking about his actions, Ivan finds himself approaching the pair and even grabs at the back of the blond's jacket and pulls him back towards him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he demands, but Ivan does not let the harsh tone of his words get to him.

"Do you even realize what you and all of your kind have done?!" he asks in turn. "The damage, the relapses, the new trauma that so many are no doubt needing to deal with now?!"

"Will you just calm the fuck down and let. Me. Go!"

He struggles and manages to wrench himself out from Ivan's grasped, looking even more disheveled than before and with his teeth barred.

"Who the hell do you think you spouting all that bullshit out at me?! We didn't harm no one in that whole fiasco, and yeah okay, I can see a trigger or two being thrown out there for some people, but our job was clean and no one got hurt. You wanna file a complaint with someone, talk to your bosses cos that shit wasn't my fault."

Ivan can feel a spike of adrenaline rush through him. He'd be lying if he were to say he knew the exact reason why he's picking a fight now with a near stranger, especially over an event that considering the lack of casualties would be wise to put behind him, but for some reason he's unable to do that. His lifestyle has been disturbed once more, and again in a violent manner. Frankly, it may just be because he's had enough.

"What kind of coward would hide from their actions?" he asks. "How can you not claim any responsibility for what you did?"

He baits him, goads him into an actual confrontation and it works. The blond's eyes narrow in his direction, looking dangerously fierce behind the lenses of his glasses and Ivan swears he can hear him let out a low growl.

"I ain't gonna say that I wasn't there and didn't blow shit up with everyone," he says too low to be misconstrued as anything other than serious. "But I was only there to set something right, you get that straight. If all of you would just stay out of the desert and leave us alone none of that would have happened."

To that Ivan snorts. "Much like the way you desert-dwellers leave us in the city alone?"

There's no sense in hiding the obvious pointed glance towards the filled bag being held by his friend, now filled with pilfered items. The other man quickly clenches the bag towards him, as if by some turn of events it would suddenly be taken from their possession. Ivan waves him off, he has no interest in taking back what they have, it's not his department and not his problem.

"If you want to fry outside city limits," he says, "by all means do so, but stay there and die there. Stay away from my home."

"First of all, fuck you. Second, just cause scum like us do the dirty work doesn't make it okay for Agents to come into  _our_  home and take our kids and their caretakers away from us right under our nose to do god knows what to them!"

Ivan's eyes go wide. "What?"

"We're taking too long," Ivan hears the other man mutter behind him but goes on ignored.

"Lookit you," the blonde says, gesturing to Ivan standing before him. "All dolled up like that, of course you believe you're in the right because you've followed all the rules, yeah? You have your new government job in this  _bright shining Utopia of a city!_  And you don't have a reason to complain, right? Everything's right fucking hunky dory-"

"Alfred!"

Still caught up in the moment, the blond rounds on his friend and asks quite aggressively: "What?!"

"We're taking too long, you fuck truck!" the other man shouts at him and throws the burlap bag over his shoulder. "If you and this scrotal sweat stain wanna duke it out some more, take it somewhere the patrols won't find-"

A sharp  _zap_  shoots right past them and hits the inside of the vending machine. It leaves a nice sized hole still sizzling and scorched around the edges and instantly puts them all on edge. All three of them turn their attentions to where it had come from, and come face to face with two Agents with their own ray guns locked and loaded.

"Warning shots have been fired," says one. "Prepare for apprehension."

A swear is muttered, he doesn't know from which one either man could have said it or maybe even both. Since he has had absolutely no part of this crime, and being personally employed by BLI, there's no reason for Ivan to panic at the sight. He'll simply explain himself, there shouldn't be a reason for him to panic.

"Come on!" he hears being yelled before not even a second later a hand wraps around his wrist and he's being dragged off and forced to keep up with the two men now running down the city streets.

It's a blur of passing concrete buildings and people scattering out of their way to keep out of the line of fire. Somewhere along the way Ivan loses his briefcase, it falls right out of his grasp and into a gutter where it cracks open and several sheets of paper scatter every which way. They go down endless streets that Ivan has never seen before and take too many twists and turns for him to even make a mental map of how far away they are now from the corner with the long gone vending machine.

They only come to a stop in a narrow alley ways cross section. It's only then that the hold on his wrist is finally let go and Ivan is allowed to double over with his hands on his knees. His breathing is a little more laboured than he likes, he's never felt so winded before. Beside him the two go on with making their escape route.

"It's better if we split up from here," he the blo-  _Alfred_  tell the brunet. "I'll take the tour of the Acid Pools and meet you at the hotel. You take the bag since you can get away faster."

Still bent over, Ivan looks their way to see the agreement to this plan and the brunet kick the floor with the tips of his shoes. He's not sure whether or not he should be amused at the sight of little wheels springing out from the bottom of his shoes and opts to keep quiet.

"Don't get stupid out there," he huffs and lugs the bag back over his shoulder. "If you're not there by the time the Camino comes around, we're leaving you."

"I'm touched, but I know."

There's not much more to say that. Without so much as a second glance back at them Alfred's friend takes off easily down a path with only the soft sounds of wheels rollling against the graveled texture of asphalt. He rounds a corner and Ivan no longer sees him. His attention immediately goes back to the blonde who is cleaning his glasses off with the ends of his shirt. When he finally does put them back on, he himself picks a path and starts to walk.

"Just stick close to me and you won't get lost," he says.

"Why?"

He stops and turns back around. "Why what?"

"Why should I follow you?"

Alfred looks at him like he's stupid. "Because we have Agents on our tail and they're going to get us?"

"I'm an employee," Ivan says. "I work with them all day, every week day. If you had just left me, I wouldn't have to be running."

That look doesn't leave Alfred's face. "I'm sorry, did you miss the part where they were, y'know, shooting at you? And that they were going to kill you?"

"It was a warning shot, and not aimed at me."

"It was aimed at all of us."

"If I would have been left to explain-"

"You think they give a fuck what you're explanation would have been?!" Alfred yells at him. "Do you honestly really believe that you are in their best interest because lemme tell you something..."

But he doesn't. Halfway through his own rant he stops himself short and throws his own hands up in defeat.

"I don't know why I bother. No I really, don't it's not like you're gonna take in what I say anyway, who knows how many pills they have you pumped up with. Why would I think you'd actually believe what I'd have to say."

There's no real sense in letting him know just how many he had been taking for how many years, or that since their unconventional first meeting he had stopped. So, instead he merely says to him in a low voice, "Try me."

That captures his interest. He's given a side glance and another one of those curious looks he'd been given just earlier before Alfred nods his head.

"Alright. Alright... I don't know, okay, just how long you've been working for your oh-so-loving overlords here, but they don't take too kindly to people mixing up with us. An absolute zero tolerance policy there if I ever saw one. There is no doubt, whatsoever, that you've already been scanned, filed, and labeled as wanted. It's not safe for you here now, and I'd apologized but it's your own damn fault."

"You don't know that," Ivan tells him, ignoring the blame for all this being shifted onto him.

For some reason, this has Alfred laugh. With his hands on his hips, he shakes his head at Ivan and gives him a sad little grin. "Believe me, big guy, I know. I know."

Part of him doesn't want to believe him, but there's a tight clench in his belly that says maybe he should. And maybe he does...

He doesn't get to mention any of that, even if he had wanted to, because they're on the move again, now going down the path Alfred first started down and Ivan makes no fuss in following. There's no running this time, and while he should probably be asking just what's in store for him exactly if the city isn't safe for him now, he doesn't. He silently follows Alfred through the maze of back alleys carefully avoiding the growing number of Agents now tearing through The Lobby in search of them until they finally hit the edge of the city limits and come across the Acid Pools.

It's nothing more than a toxic waste dumping grown with nothing by barrels and barrels piled together and glowing waters of bright yellow and lime green littered throughout. He had never seen it up close like this before, and the stench of it has him wrinkle his nose and wrap his scarf around the lower part of his face. A quick glance at Alfred shows that he's brought his bandanna up to do the same.

He notices Ivan's stare and catches his eye, spots the scarf wrapped around him protectively and gives him a thumbs up. Ivan tries not to feel that small swell of pride of being praised for having the common sense to do so, because really, it should be basic instinct.

"Have you ever smelled cherry limeade before?" he asks and Ivan can only shake his head  _no_. "Well... if you start to smell something sweet and see me running, you run too."

With that he takes his first step into the area, and Ivan follows after him.

"Also," Alfred tells him, "you should watch out for any water that starts bubbling. Sometimes big ones surface and they splash really far. And you really don't want any of this stuff to touch you."

The two pick through the field using the glowing waters as a guide with the sun now setting and night settling in. By the time they near the opposite end and approach the expanse of desert landscapes it's near full dark with nothing but the moon and the few stars showing up early to light a path.

This whole time Ivan wonders that if what Alfred said is true. He wonders if there would be way to clear his name; maybe insist this was a kidnapping. He could be a hostage! But then if what Alfred says is true on that  _zero tolerance_ , then would it matter? But it's not as if he knows that to be true, it's not as if he has any real experience with a situation like this... Or maybe he does. His sisters, after all-

Suddenly, something shoots right into the middle of Ivan's back, shooting an electric charge through him and has him cry out.

He falls face forward, unable to move, not even an inch. His eyes are wide and watching. They see Alfred stop and turn back. In what seems like no time at all, he's back in front of Ivan muttering to himself and trying to lift him back up by his arms. Whatever is it that he's been hit with leaves him immobile, and from the curses getting louder, he thinks Alfred has seen this before as well.

"This is from a fucking sniper," he says just barely loud enough for Ivan to hear. "This shouldn't have happened, they shouldn't have been here."

He keeps tugging on Ivan's body and he's able to drag him further just a little bit. Ivan cries out again when he's dropped and Alfred jumps back, his chin hits the ground and clacks his teeth together painfully. He's lifted up again and is dragged over a scoring hole that faintly sizzles against the fabric of his clothes.

The second time a shot gets to close, Alfred is able to roll both himself and Ivan out of the way, but there are footsteps thundering through and disturbing the silence of the Acid Pools. There's no doubt they've been found, and they'll soon be swarmed.

The third time they're shot at, it's just as painful as the first. Alfred isn't able to move them in the same direction. Instead he tosses Ivan to the side and throws himself forward to dodge the shot. Ivan can only watch as he's forced to scuttle further and further away with every new blast aimed at him.

"Just go!" Ivan's able to shout at him and ignores the heavy feeling in his gut. "They've already caught me, just go!"

"You want me to leave you here?!" Alfred yells back.

"That is what I said, yes!"

Even though he can't see them, Ivan can hear the every growing approach of voices barking out order and knows that Agents are not far behind them. And with the way Alfred is staring at the scene, he knows that there must be quiet a lot of them to get that kind of expression.

"I said go!"

His shout seems to break him out of his stupor. Alfred bites his lip, eyebrows furrowed, he looks to Ivan once more. He isn't able to see his mouth, but he can imagine a pout, and just how pitiful he must look without that mask. A faint "I'm sorry." reaches his ears, and with only that he turns right around and runs.

Ivan watches him. Even after he's only a faint figure in the distance passing through the wire fencing and so are the few Agents that continue to chase after him. He has no choice, really. He's only allowed to look away when he's lifted up by his head, a heavy cloth is slipped right over, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -my friend myshka's birthday was monday and she wanted an update for this as well as some other things as a gift.
> 
> -as you can see i've only updated this because i am terrible at gift ficcing.
> 
> -also romano is wearing heelys. well, something like heelys idk what they're called my cousin has a pair
> 
> -i miss writing this, i have so much fic to catch up on.
> 
> -later lovelies, stay shiny, i'm out xoxo


	3. To Keep You Alive

They comes in flashes.

_He's on a playground swing set. He's getting too big for it, but he's taking advantage of the time he has left. There's wind and the trees are blowing hard. He hears his mother call to him for a jacket and sees Natalya run towards him as he soars upwards. The sun blinds him on the way._

_There's a lot of talking happening by adults. He understands some of it, he knows there's some kind of war. But he's only eleven and he doesn't care much. It doesn't affect him._

_They practice drills at school. He learns the proper way to duck and dive under the desk. He does it the fastest. The teachers use him as an example for the rest of the kids._

_Their TV doesn't show anything but the news. Whenever they try to change the channel, their father barks at them._

_A letter on the table and his mother is crying. His father is gone._

_Another letter. They all cry. He's thirteen years old and is now the man of the house._

_The first bomb drops and they curl up together under the kitchen table. Half of their apartment complex is taken out and he wonders why they thought hiding under like this would help them at all._

_The sirens are going and they have to leave. Mass evacuation and they have to leave. They're running, but not fast enough. His mother falls, Natalya does not let go of her hand. Katerina won't let go of Natalya. He can't stop staring._

_He can't stop staring at the building that's coming at them-_

Ivan wakes up with a sharp gasp and a pounding headache.

His eyes are wide open, but they can't take the intensity of how bright the room really is. He ends up squeezing them shut again and fights against the hold around his body. There's a small buzz playing somewhere in the background and he doesn't know what it is but really can't bother to figure it out. He's too busy trying to move his arms.

He slumps back against whatever it is he's propped up against. Slowly he opens his eyes and breathes a little too heavily as he tries to figure out just where the hell they've taken him.

White.

It's all white.

The wall. The floors. The ceiling. He can't even tell where the door is, if there's any cameras, if there's anyone watching him. It makes him itch. Makes him too uncomfortable and all that more ready to leave.

Ivan struggles again and finally notices that they've put him in some quasi-straight jacket. Not something tight enough to keep a good hold on him, but the way they've latched him to this standing table helps in anything that may lack. And as if that wasn't humiliating enough, they've muzzled him too. Thick brand straps are barely visible through his peripheral vision as he looks down at himself. They press snug against the skin of his face and he briefly wonders how he didn't notice that before.

That thought is brief though. It only lasts a second before he's back to trying to get himself out of these binds. But the buzzing grows a bit louder and it finally catches his attention before it's cut off sharply and it's now the question of what is going to happen next?

Something crackles it sounds much like the noise that accompanies the announcements that are about to be made throughout the day. Instead of the soft waif like voice that reminds them of their medication though, it's different. There's still a softness to the voice, but it's definitely more masculine and has a hard accent that he cannot remember hearing before.

"Cease resistance, or prepare for sedation," it says, but Ivan does not follow the instruction.

It's instinct to struggle, and even with knowing better he can't stop that want to be released well enough to be rational.

"Fill room with gas at level 3," the voice commands.

From vents unseen billows of smoke pour in and fill the room quickly. It makes him cough, forces him to calm down as he struggles to breath in clean air from the sudden pollution. Eventually it over takes him and he sleeps again.

It's dreamless this time, and when he awakes it not violent as it was before.

He's still in the same room, but they've positioned him differently. He's still bound, still muzzled, but now he's sitting as opposed to standing and it begins to frighten him. Just how much time had passed? Is it still the same day? Has he been there for more? It's disorienting and making him too anxious. So much to the point where he doesn't even realize that the room is dimmer than before and that there is even another person with him.

"Ivan," he hears and his heart nearly stops. "Don't move. Whatever you do, don't move. You'll alert the sensors monitoring your seat."

He does as the voice says, if only because he knows that voice best by now. He finally comes to rest on the still standing of figure of his only real friend.

Yao is not dressed in his usual work clothes. Instead of the drab brown suit Ivan is so used to seeing, he's wearing all white, like the many Agents wear when in full uniform only minus their masks. He opens his mouth to ask why, but Yao silences him again.

"Don't even speak," he says. "Too much vocal noise from you and they'll know you're awake."

With that Ivan keeps quiet, and the other man approaches him cautiously with quiet steps until he's near in front of him. From this close up, he can see Yao's eyes carry a sadness to them that he had never seen before. It worries him some, but he says nothing just as instructed.

"I'm sorry about this," says Yao. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. I never… in a million years think I would be doing this for you."

The small sense of fear Ivan feels at these words must show in his expression, because it has Yao laugh quietly and turn the atmosphere between them less tense.

"No, you misunderstand me. I just thought that because you kept your head down and did as you were told, I'd be able to look after you like that. But now things are different, so now I'm helping you in a different way."

Ivan relaxes, his heartbeat is steady and he watches as Yao reaches into the inner pockets of his jacket and pulls out a small white kit.

"They're placing you in solitary," he says. "Obviously. It's to weaken your spirit so that when they come for you, you'll be easier to manipulate with their sudden presence. That's what all the sedation is for. To keep you guessing how long you've been in here and to keep you hazy and unable to focus on much else.

"You've been in here for a total of three days. I don't know how much longer they'll keep you in here. It usually varies and I don't know how long they'll take for you. They just want to make sure that you'll talk when they come, and you have to. You have to otherwise they will put you through some gruesome techniques to get you to talk, Ivan. They are terrible when they capture desert dweller or anyone working with them.

"And I know you're not. I know what happened, and again I am sorry this is happening. But because it is, there's not much I can do now but this."

Yao flicks open the kit and reveals a syringe, a needle, and a small bottle filled with a clear liquid. A sudden rush of adrenaline goes through him and it takes everything in him to believe that his death will not be met here like this. He has to trust this man. He always has before, and he's asking for his trust now. He has to.

"When they come get you just be cooperative," Yao says and begins to put everything together. "Do not hesitate to answer, even if the answers are made up. Make up the story, and I want you to know it's okay to tell as much truth as you know. There's not much they can get from you about us from what you know of that night. It's okay."

The needle goes into the top of the bottle and Ivan watches with rapt fascination as Yao fills the syringe with the liquid he knows is going to be injected into him. That much is obvious.

"It's two days until I can help you get out of here, Ivan. Please be strong until then, but we will get you out of here. We will."

He approaches him closer and says, "This is going to put you back to sleep and it will also rehydrate you. It will keep you stable until they come get you.

"Now listen carefully. I need you to jerk your head to the side. Quick and in one move, and then breathe normally. The sensor will pick it up, but it will read as a movement made in sleep as long as it is the one. Okay? It's not so hard, but do it now."

It's not as if there's much else he can do. Ivan takes in a little bit of a deeper breath than may be necessary, but he jerks his head to the side to reveal an expanse of neck and sighs back into a normal breathing pattern. No one makes a move after that, not for a good couple of seconds before Yao has his fingers pressed against his skin and it takes all of his willpower to not flinch at the touch.

"Stay strong Ivan."

He feels it prick into his skin. Makes himself breathe normally. He doesn't want anyone to know that Yao is here. He tries to ignore what he feels because he can't let anyone know. He can't let anyone know. Yao is here to help him and he can't let anyone know. He can't.. let..

"Don't forget," he hears as he begins to nod off again. "Don't hesitate to answer and keep strong."

The last thing he feels is the gentle wipe of a small bit of cotton against his neck before his breathing really does even out and he's asleep again.

The flashes come back again.

_The three of them are holding hands in a caravan made up from an old army vehicle. He makes eye contact with a little dirty faced blond boy who is glaring at him. He is going to ask him what the matter is when they stop so hard that everyone inside topples over one another._

_They settle into a tent with many others in a small makeshift town filled with survivors far away from the fighting. Natalya still isn't talking._

_They survive on rations and take up small tasks to earn their keep. Even when the fighting ends they continue on this way and nothing changes._

_He signs up to join in the construction of a new city in this vast desert they find themselves in._

_He's so tired._

_He's so tired._

_Katerina tells him he works too hard and tries to coax some words from Natalya. She still won't talk._

They settle into a new apartment when she does. She tells them she wants to go home. Katerina cries-

His eyes start to open with the ringing of his sister's cries still in his ears. His nose feels like it's running so he ends up sniffling. His face feels sticky too…

Ivan is standing again and there's no longer anything strapped across his mouth. He's a little more clearly headed and he recognizes that there are others in the room. His head raises up and he's startled to find not only one but three figures standing in front of him.

With two Agents on either side of him stands a man he has never seen up close like this. Mr Honda is not a man to be approached or one to grace his presence among mere civilians.

Though his stature is small his posture and impassive expression reveals him to be someone carrying a status demanding both respect and fear. His finely pressed dark grey suit that is vastly superior to Ivan's own bland work clothes is a stark contrast to the rest of the room and calls the most attention as he begins to move. The click of his polished shoes against the tile is loud and echoes with ever step he takes closer to Ivan.

He hears the beating of his heart pound in his ears and the longer Honda continues to stare the more unsettled Ivan becomes. He doesn't say anything about it, he certainly doesn't want to call attention to how uncomfortable he is. He only tries to figure out just what it is that is going to happen next.

Little by little, Yao's visit comes back to him. Everything he said – his warnings and his instructions – come back to him. He will be questioned, and he needs to answer quickly. Be as honest as possible, make up a tale if need. He can do that.

Ivan is not so much afraid now, but it must show because suddenly Honda's hand shoot upwards and grabs at the handle strapped to his back. Ivan's eyes go wide at the sight and sound of a metal blade beginning to be unsheathed.

"Mr Honda."

A light voice comes from somewhere. Someone is watching them.

"Protocol, Mr Honda," the voice sing-songs. "Don't forget the protocol."

Only a second later does Honda also drop his sword back into its sheath. Ivan gulps hard, but does nothing more to show his relief.

He remains quiet and returns to simply studying Ivan. Eventually, when he does speak, his voice is clear, soft, and accented.

"Let her in."

His words cause a flicker of recognition, but Ivan has no time for that. His attention quickly diverts to the Agent that breaks away and walks back to the far wall. From what Ivan once thought was a seamless panel reveals a hidden handle that slides a door open. Almost immediately afterwards, a thin young woman enters the room dressed in the same manner as Honda only with a pencil skirt instead of slacks.

As Honda's did, her heels click against the tile and echo in the small room. Her long brown hair is near immaculate as she walks; a single curly strand breaks away moves along with her steps. Her aura is not nearly as threatening as the others, and it remains that way even with the practiced smile she gives him.

"Mr Braginsky," she says. "Would you please recite your employee badge number for me?"

The question catches Ivan off guard. It's not as if he doesn't remember his badge number; it's just maybe he expected this to be blunt and straight to the point.

He takes too long. Honda's hand reaches for the handle of his sword again and rests there.

"My.. badge number," Ivan finally says. His voice is croaky and hoarse from disuse, but he's able to speak through it thankfully enough. "My badge number is number 3-3-9-2-5-5-7-1. I am in the subsection of The Construction and Development Department on Floor 11."

The woman shuffles through leafs of paper on the clipboard she carries. She nods along with his words and even makes notes as he speaks.

So you are," she says. "You have no marks against you on your records, and you even have history of helping in the base construction of the city after the War. This is correct?"

"Yes."

Her smile remains.

"And yet you were found in the presence of two criminals and even reported as making an escape with them?"

"No, I- It wasn't like that. I didn't know them."

She brings her clipboard to rest against her chest; as if to give him her undivided attention.

"Then please, what were you doing in The Lobby that night?"

"I was on my way home. We are made to use detours and alternate routes after going through the underground tunnels to exit the building. It's my only way home."

"Are you implying the company holds responsibility for your current situation?"

"No! No, I- I am not. If anything it's the ones who were stealing and committing that crime. I didn't want any part of it."

Her smile is still plastered on, unwavering, and only now does it truly begin to unsettle him.

"Reports state that you were seen with two known criminals during the act of a crime and fled the scene as part of the guilty party. This is incorrect?"

"It is. That's not what happened."

"Would you care to please tell us what happened?"

Ivan opens his mouth to speak but his sense of self-preservation screaming at him to stop. There must be a reason why Yao would tell him to make up false answers. It could be that if he does tell the absolute truth about that day, even giving Alfred away and everything… Maybe it wouldn't matter. Maybe they've already decided the truth and that is that.

They stare at him, waiting. He can't back track, not now. But he does talk, and he talks quickly.

"On my way home," he says, "I came across two men destroying a vending machine. I admit that I did not intend to confront them. I had planned to inform an Agent on patrol if I would come across one. But they stopped me. They asked me to help them steal, said that I would know the easiest way to get into the machine, and when I wouldn't one of them threatened me with their gun. I don't know how to get into the machines though, so I did what I could to keep him distracted and not shoot me until someone would find us.

"But when I finally thought I was safe, the blond one, he pulled me to run with them. He wouldn't let go, and when I tried to escape they held me down and said that I was going to be an exchange for them if they were caught whether I liked it or not."

He pauses to catch his breath. He feels a bit more winded then he really should and looks to the woman pleadingly.

"Please," he says. "I'm telling the truth. I just wanted to go home."

That much is true, honestly. He hopes he's able to make an impression. He's unable to tell though. The woman does not drop her smile, not completely. He sees it falter only when she turns away from him to look to Honda. Neither say a word, but simultaneously they turn and walk in step away from Ivan.

They both speak in low voices he is unable to make out, though he notices Honda does not speak as much as the woman. When they do turn back to him and approach once more, Ivan notices smile is plastered on again but does look more strained. It must have been accidental, he doesn't think he was meant to notice her small sigh and the force of her smiling narrowing her eyes even further.

"My superior," she says, "does not believe you."

Ivan doesn't know how he's able to remain as calm as he does. He feels like his heart will burst through his chest at any moment. His quiet façade is nothing but a disguise for his being too choked up to say anymore in his defense. But really, what else can he say?

Luckily, he doesn't have to say anything. That same lofty voice which held Honda back from doing anything more than revealing his weapon speaks up and again addresses the man.

"Care to tell why, Mr Honda?"

For the first time ever, Ivan sees Honda appear uncomfortable under verbal scrutiny. He shifts and attempts to remain dignified as he forms some semblance of an argument.

Eventually, all he is able to say is: "Intuition.", and it's painfully obvious that his quick speech and clear cut of the word is nothing more than to mask the lack of confidence he has in saying it. Even now he appears unsatisfied with the simplicity of his reason, but he says nothing else.

A beat of silence and the voice speaks again. "Miss Mei?"

"I see no reason to doubt him," the woman says with the confidence Honda lacked. "Ivan Braginsky has a clean record, no prior incidents, and no discriminatory past. There's no reason to hold him accountable for this incident."

She pauses to check her clipboard and smile more to herself before continuing her case.

"However, this incident did occur and precautions should be taken into consideration."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"With his build and promising agility, I propose a 100 percent Thought Adjustment and admission into the Scarecrow Unit. The field is in need of new recruits and unfortunately volunteers are lacking."

Silence reigns and Ivan just knows that a verdict is being made. While Honda remains impassive, Miss Mei keeps a steady eye on him and even flashes a soft smile at him as some sort of comfort. He isn't sure what to make of that. He's not exactly sure which side he's meant to be rooting for.

"Agreed," the voice says at length. "Take him to Yao."

Miss Mei smiles that same fake smile and gives her thanks and appreciation while directing the Agents to unstrap Ivan from his binds. She gives the clear instructions to follow her as well as keep a good hold on Ivan the whole way. It's understandable why, and while Ivan has never been fond of being touched by strangers he's not going to say anything about the help given to him.

After being locked and strapped up for so long his limbs are stiff and immobile from disuse. He stumbles and follows after the Agents pathetically as they drag him through the halls. When they do come to a stop, Ivan is able to recognize the department so close to his own. Miss Mei opens a door leading into a bare room with nothing but a table and a pair of chairs one either side.

"Sit him down," she commands and her instructions are once again handled without fuss. "Both of you are dismissed. Thank you, and have a nice day."

Neither one of them says anything. They simply nod their heads and leave. When the door shuts behind him, the smile finally slips from Miss Mei's face. In its place is an expression that shows a woman who is far too tired for someone her age.

"Move your legs," she says. "Start doing it because you're going to be running and you haven't used them in so long."

She taps his knees until he starts to move his legs up and down He doesn't even fight her when she tells him to stand again and again.

"Okay, sit down," she tells him. "We don't have much time and there's things I need to go over with you."

Ivan sits and Miss Mei comes to stand in front of him. As she tightens the straps of his jacket just by a fraction she says, "When Yao comes in there will already be someone watching."

Her eyes flicker upwards towards a corner of the room.

"Don't speak, let him do all the talking and listen carefully when he tells you when and how it's time to escape. Understand?"

Ivan nods. "Yes"

"Good," she smiles, and this time it feels real.

But as it did before, her smile drops again. This time though, she looks both tired and sad. Miss Mei reaches into her blazer and from inside she pulls out a pink flower the size of her palm. She tucks it under his jacket and pats at it gently, as if she's forgotten that it's Ivan she's technically petting.

"Before you do leave give Yao this," she says and her voice is soft. "Tell him… Tell him I can't do this anymore. I don't belong to the desert anymore."

She stands up straight and turns away before Ivan can even reply.

They're not given much time alone. Not even a minute later another door on the opposite side of the room swings open and Ivan's old friend enters. Miss Mei turns around then. That same smile Ivan first saw her with in place.

"Mr Wang," she greets.

"Miss Mei," he says in return and takes his own seat.

"Orders from the Boss," she goes on to say and slides her clipboard on the desk. "100 percent Thought Adjustment and admission into the Scarecrow Unit.

"Very good. We need more on the field. This is great news."

"Wonderful. I'll leave to you then."

"I can handle this, thank you. Have a nice day."

"Have a nice day."

She leaves then without so much as a second glance. Not that Ivan can say that he minds, he's a little too preoccupied with his own problems to care much. Especially with the looming promise of a full scale Thought Adjustment. It's not that Ivan doesn't trust Yao, but a full 100 percent… He's heard stories of what happens to a person's mind when it's given more than the standard five, or even the maximum ten in the more serious cases, and they aren't pretty. Was this his plan all along? Was it… ?

He looks to his friend, and for the first time wonders just what side he's really on.

"So then," Yao says in a tone that is more serious and monotone than Ivan has ever heard before. "Well, Ivan.. I can say that I never expected to see you in my office but I will say that I am not glad to have you on board.

"Now then, you've been through a Thought Adjustment before. The process is the same, it will only take longer. If you begin to feel any sudden sleepiness or the threat of blacking out, do not worry, this is normal."

Yao stands from his seat. From above he pulls down a thin monitor screen and a sudden projection shows up. It's nothing more than the company's logo, but it does seem surreal. How long ago was it that he had seen the same screensaver at his own desk? It feels like a lifetime ago.

"This is not a punishment," says Yao. "This is to ensure your continued happiness and safety without our own city limits. Do you understand?"

Ivan answer is instant. He nods his head. "Yes."

Yao blinks. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

The screen distorts and like that day so long ago a piercing screech cries out throughout the room and echoes from beyond their room. Ivan cringes as it goes on, as does Yao right up until it stops. When it does, a light in the corner of the room begins to flash red and Yao smiles.

He hurries around the desk, keeping his eyes on the corner of the room until he comes to stand in front of Ivan and grabs at the front of his jacket.

"I'm going to start pulling," he tells him. "When I do, throw your arms out as hard as you can. We're going to make it look as if you've torn through it."

"We can do that?"

"If we do it right, but we only have one chance, okay?"

"Yeah… okay."

"On the count of three then."

Yao counts and Ivan does as he's instructed. There's a large tearing sound and a huge rush of cold envelopes Ivan as his arms are finally freed and bared. It's odd to move them, but he isn't given much time to marvel at the fact because go is speaking to him again and he needs to listen.

"You'll need to go down to the first floor. Use the stairwell at the end of the hall and go out through the front through all of the construction. There shouldn't be that much security there, but be careful all the same. When you get to the Main Gate there will be a woman waiting for you either wearing a red flower or pink flower in her hair, I don't know which is going to stay in the care. Got it? Good. Now punch me in the face."

That certainly catches Ivan off guard.

"What?!"

"Punch me. I'll pretend to be suffering on the floor in pain so as to not being able to chase you down. It's how you're going to be making your escape. But hurry because we don't have much time."

Ivan still hesitates. "So, that means that you're staying here?"

"I'd go with you if I could, but I just can't give myself away yet."

It's with those words that explains so much. Yao is not the man he thought he was, he has no idea who his friend really is or what he's even doing here. And yet… he feels more grateful than anything. This little revelation changes absolutely nothing in his trust for him.

"I'll explain when I can, I promise you, when I see you again but we do not have the time right now."

Even though his voice has a lot of urgency, Ivan still does not act. His eyes dart to the floor in order to escape Yao's stare and land on the only bit of color in the room. With the sudden shift in the conversation he had forgotten about the flower Miss Mei had placed under his jacket. He bends down to pick it up, ignores the call of his name from Yao and cuts off any kind of scolding he would have received.

Ivan holds the flower out in front of him and nothing but far off commotion is heard outside the walls around them.

"Miss Mei said to give this to you," he says. "She said that she doesn't belong to the desert anymore."

Yao does not take it from him. Instead he folds it into Ivan's palm, has him close his fist around it.

"Hold on to it," he says in a straight monotone voice. "Give it to the women you'll be with and say that it goes back to Sunny. They'll know what to do with it."

The press of it against his hand is strange. It's been warmed by his body, but it's soft to the touch; made from a cloth that feels it should be a real flower petal. It barely weighs anything; he's sure that the small touch of metal is the only real pressure pushing against his skin, but the way Yao looks at it – even now hidden – makes it seem as if he's carrying a heavy burden.

And like in many times before, the intensity of the moment drops, and Yao brings himself to stand straight once again.

"Punch me," he demands. "Across my face, as hard as you can, leave a mark. If you want your freedom, Ivan, you'll do it."

_Freedom._

He doesn't know why that inspires him, or even motivates him to throw the punch, but before he realizes it his arm is cutting through the air and his fist lands hard against Yao's cheek. He swears he hears something crack and he even begins to apologize like no other as Yao falls to the floor. He makes to approach him, but Yao only waves him off.

"Just go, I'm fine," he cries out. "Go, Ivan! Go, and remember what I told you! Go! I'll see you again so go!"

Ivan backs out of the room. His eyes ever really leave Yao until he's ready to turn away and run down the hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- need to type out what i've rewritten of the first two chapters. i've been thinking about this fic a lot to and it's gone under a lot of heavy editing.
> 
> \- i miss writing. work sucks i wanna write and be online with friends again.

**Author's Note:**

> -I thought of this plot so long ago it's so oooold I doubt there's anyone still into it and does it even matter because the killjoy era is over anyway why am I still gonna write this blarragaarah..
> 
> -Um... There were a few people that I talked to about this after they reviewed F.T.W.W.W. (years ago, yeah I know), because this is actually an extension of that, the entire story if you will, and it's not exactly crossoverish as much as it is just Hetalia'fied because while some terms are excluded a lot of it is pretty much the same of what it's based from and you can really tell.
> 
> -I mean, I pretty much just jacked the Zones, BLI, and the Scarecrow Unit.
> 
>  
> 
> -Stay shiny all, I'll... see you when I do. :D
> 
> ETA: re-wrote some jazz here, fixed some grammar shizz and yeah.... Yeah gonna pick this old project up again!


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